


Lectures

by cherrygoldlove



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drabble, M/M, Public Nudity, Semi-Public Blow Jobs, Slight PWP, picture prompt, professor!Q, student!Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:05:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9570815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrygoldlove/pseuds/cherrygoldlove
Summary: 'Bond is always sitting in the front row, glasses hanging off his ear as he bites his pen, eyes hungry, devouring his professor's form.'





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nebelkraehe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebelkraehe/gifts), [onyourleft084](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onyourleft084/gifts).



> For the lovely nebelkraehe for getting me inspired <3

 

Q hasn’t been teaching for a long time, this, basically being his third year as a professor. 

Most of his students are male, fit, and on their way to become soldiers and marines, government employees of various talents, so in every of his groups there has been a guy or two that caught his attention, but this year… this year there’s one special one. 

Bond. 

And Bond is always sitting in the front row, glasses hanging off his ear as he bites his pen, eyes hungry, devouring his professor's form. 

Q always gets flustered, watching as his blond student leans back in his chair after a long moment of seemingly contemplating the current issue on the blackboard. The blond, Bond, leans back, spreads his thighs a little bit further apart and hooks an arm over the chair's back. 

Then he usually murmurs appreciatively, or worse, opens his mouth to ask some stupid question or make some seemingly trivial and innocent remark. 

Bond is usually the last to leave too, which doesn't help Q at all. 

He's tall, broad, with a crooked smile and flirtatious eyes and a quick mind. Intelligent and capable. 

And all those things make him dangerous, oh so dangerous to Q. 

He never approaches Q, he just gathers his things, lazily. And then walks out, with that last, burning look over his shoulder that makes Q feel hot and bothered and make him fantasise about being bent over his own desk, rutted into, devoured... 

Today it's Friday, he made the lecture go on a little bit longer, so it's pretty late, his being the last class of the evening, so he feels a little secure, a little... Adventurous. 

He sits back in his chair behind his big, oak desk and leans back, dragging a hand into his trousers, teasing at his swollen cock. 

He opens his trousers and takes it out. 

And of course it's the day Bond decides to come back. 

The doors open with a swoosh. "Sorry, professor I forgot-" 

The blond freezes in the doorway. 

Q's face heats up with a fierce blush as he scrambles to cover up, to straighten his clothes and save the situation but it's too late. 

Bond's face has gone slack, mouth dropping slightly as a fire burned in the blue, blue eyes. He stepped in, movement slow and cautious as he closed the doors after himself, lock turning. 

Q turns away in his chair, curling over his body, one hand pressing against his still straining erection, the other trying to pull his cardigan lower, low enough to hide his excitement. He jumps a little when a big, warm palm lands on his shoulder, turning him again in the chair to face his blond haired student. Q can only watch, mortified, as Bond drops swiftly to his knees in front of him and then pries Q's hands away, entwining their fingers. 

They stare at each other for the longest moment, neither of them uttering a word. 

James untangles one of his hands then, movement still slow and cautious as he lowers it onto Q's thigh, rubbing up and down making his professor's cock bob under the material of the cardigan, a wet spot blossoming there, spreading fast. 

Seemingly encouraged by Q not doing anything to stop him, the hand moves up to the brunet's waist, pulling the material up and away from the straining erection, freeing it. 

Red, silky smooth and drooling at the tip, right in front the blue eyes. 

Bond's whole attention zeros in on Q's cock now and he moves their entwined hands there, wrapping around it, making Q's hand curl around his own desire, Bond's bigger palm enfolding both, encouraging his professor to resume the lazy strokes. 

Q's hesitant, whole body trembling, but his need... Is enormous. And with the blond kneeling there, seemingly at his mercy, his fantasy, his to command... 

His movement becomes more bold, more pronounced, and when he has a decent rhythm going, the blond's hand skids away, smoothing down Q's hip and booking there, dragging the professor's hip closer, making the brunet slide lower in the chair. 

Bond licks his lips and Q can't help a needy whimper leaving his mouth. He wants, he craves... 

As if reading his mind, Bond slides his hands from the Brunet's hips and moves them up, hooking over his professor's arms and forcing Q to let go of his cock as he's rendered immobile in his chair. 

Looking him straight in the eyes, Bond lowers down slowly and then he's licking a wide stripe up Q's cock. 

Q can't help his hips twitching up to make the contact more pronounced, but the blond's arms over his thighs just push him down more insistent. He's so much stronger than him... 

Bond takes his sweet time teasing. He's licking, pressing kisses to the sides, up and down the heated column, swirling his tongue over the tip to lick up the gathered precome there. 

Q can't do anything much, he's at his student's mercy, moaning and gasping and biting his lips to hold in the louder whimpers that try to force themselves up his throat when Bond's tongue pushes against his slit. 

It's a sweet, sweet torture. 

Q's hips strain, doing those little twitches up, up, deeper into his student's mouth. Those moves he really can't help doing. He whimpers when Bond finally takes him in deep and starts to suck, hard. 

Q is gone writhing seconds, his vision blurring and growing dark at the edges as he stumbles through the hardest orgasm of his life. 

When he comes to, the blond is still there, licking him clean, hands petting up and down his flanks, gentling, caressing. 

Wary, Q lifts one trembling hand and lays it on the short blond locks, letting himself touch that handsome face. 

Bond looks up at him, expression soft as he smiles and turning his head to the side, closes his eyes and kisses Q's open palm. 

Later, the blond helps him right his clothes and look more or less presentable and dismisses any notion of Q returning the favour right that moment. Instead, he invites his professor out for coffee and despite his better judgment, Q accepts and... spends the night in James' bed. 

Sweaty and satisfied again, curled into the broad chest of his new lover, a happy, content smile on his face as the other man kisses him goodnight.


End file.
